Like Clockwork
by Pseudinymous
Summary: "Danny... soon, I will be gone. This watch is of utmost importance. Do not lose it. Do not break it. Do not let the Observants know about it. Keep it on you always," Clockwork paused, admiring the golden etchings, produced so long ago in an ancient language. "You must realise... it truly is time itself."
1. Prelude

**Author's Note:  
** I'm really excited about this fic. Really, really excited about it. It's the amalgamation of a few different ideas coming together to form one big story. I was going to hold off releasing chapters of this until after Christmas, but… well, I couldn't stop myself.

Although we are starting with Clockwork, this is going to mainly be about Danny, Sam, Tucker, and anyone else in their immediate vicinity. Normally I like to write about the ghosts or side characters more, but not this time!

This fic might get quite dark. To keep things interesting, this is all the warning you're going to get. Read ahead with caution, or more hopefully with enthusiasm.

NOTE: I have a tumblr account under "pseudinymous". After chapter five is posted I'll be putting up chapter previews, unfinished parts, and notes for this fic. Follow me there if interested!

* * *

 **Like Clockwork  
** _A fanfic by Pseudinymous_

~ **1:** Prelude ~

* * *

A clock chimed eight.

Clockwork's pupil-less eyes slid towards it, gazing at its face with the distaste of someone who knew something very bad was coming. It was his master clock, the one clock that showed the true time outside of time — which made a lot of sense when you realised he had to organise his days somehow. The ghost let out a long murmur the could have been a sigh, watching the seconds hand continue its crushing cycle towards the inevitable.

Perhaps if he hadn't been so dutiful to the flows of time, he wouldn't have been here today. Drifting aimlessly, contemplating non-existence. But the Japanese had a good word for this, even if it tended to be used in more mysterious circumstances: _hitsuzen_. An event which, in this causality, was absolutely unavoidable.

He had pondered it before, but never what it had meant for him. And now he was here staring Fate in her beautiful, silver-lined clock face. Somewhere beyond it a woman was smiling back, but her eyes showed a well-hidden funerary sadness.

A disturbance in the air interrupted him from his pensive stare. "Clockwork?" it said, innocently.

Clockwork's eyes slid back away from the clock, and rested heavily upon the boy he had taken such a shine to. But this time, unlike many others, he did not smile — his face remained blank, worryingly calm, calculating. Danny wasn't used to the Guardian of Time needing so much of it to think, and he made little nervous and disconcerted gestures under Clockwork's gaze. He even poked at the ground with one of his feet, in an apparent test to see if it was real.

After a further pause, the old ghost changed to the form he took as a younger adult, away from the ancient and decrepit form of a hunched grandfather. If this was the last of him, he wasn't going to spend it as a geriatric — he was going to look youthful, but still old enough to appear wise.

 _You weren't wise enough_ , his mind whispered.

"… Danny." said Clockwork, eventually. The boy's eyes brightened to attention. "This is a difficult situation. I didn't see it coming."

You could have said Danny's face fell, but as it had already started off in a position that didn't exactly indicate happiness, such a familiar description wasn't adequate. To put it in terms of geography, it was more like the inevitable plunge that a sheer cliff took after being weathered away by the ocean waves for too many centuries. Danny's face was _good_ at carrying the weight of centuries. He had experienced enough Life to be worth several, by now.

"What are you talking about?" Danny asked. "… I thought you could see everything!"

Clockwork gave the half-ghost a careful scan with his wide, red sclera. Danny's hair was white, his eyes were green, and he glowed with the odd vitality that had come to be expected from someone who was technically half dead. The boy was full of youthful life, full of the innate desire to do good and protect. Dutiful, adept at handling pressures that would have had most crying and running as fast as they could, and eternally grateful for the graces he'd been given — well, most of the time, anyway. He was powerful, too, with quick wits and plenty of battle smarts. Perhaps peppered with a touch of arrogance, but overall the deal was good.

Time had converged upon Danny to make him the person he was today. Lesser people would have given up, but he treated this odd balancing act with curiosity and, increasingly, an iron fist.

And with his many virtues, he was the only one Clockwork could trust.

The old time ghost's mouth curled to produce a slight and sombre smile. "Danny…" he began. "Soon, I will be gone."

The words thronged about the place. It was the first time he'd said them aloud, and the clock tower seemed to protest against them, as if holding them in would protect its master. Danny's eyes widened, but he did not interrupt as Clockwork pulled something old and metallic from his pocket. He held it up in the air, where it glinted in the dim, green light.

"This watch is of the utmost importance. Do not lose it. Do not break it. Do not let the Observants know about it. Keep it on you always," he paused, admiring the golden etchings, produced so long ago in an ancient language. "You must realise… it truly is time itself."

The part of the cliff that wasn't supposed to fall, even after the weathering, plunged to its watery grave. Danny's tanned face was quickly turning white, and he looked at the watch as if it weighed down upon the world with the mass of a billion suns, all condensing into a single, unfathomably horrific black hole. The singularity was squarely on the centre pin, which held its ornate silver hands to the surface. Streams of energy produced by the forming quasar.

"When you say ' _gone'—"_ Danny began, but he stopped as Clockwork pulled out the boy's hand by its reluctant wrist and dropped the pocket watch in. It made little metallic clinkings as its chain coiled up, clashing against its own golden surfaces.

"I mean gone forever," said Clockwork, simply. "I am dying."

Suddenly, the time ghost looked far older than his form implied, even older than that of the grandfather he was sometimes fond of displaying. His face may have been young but his expression said he was a constant coming to an end, finally realising how ancient he actually was.

Danny's hand was shaking. He didn't seem to have figured out what to do with the watch, and held it out as if he was still in the process of receiving it. "… _How_?" was all he could manage.

Clockwork turned around again, staring into the hands of his master clock, into the face of that morose young woman. "I will fade. First, it will begin with my hand," he said, and he removed his glove to reveal an appendage that only appeared to be there in spirit, no more substantial than the thoughts and wishful thinking of a very determined believer. "And then it will spread up through the rest of my arm, through my other limbs, until it swallows me."

The boy didn't seem able to bring himself to speak. Clockwork looked back at him, smiling sadly as he replaced the glove, hiding his illness.

"… I am truly sorry to be passing such a burden onto you, Danny."

The watch slid from Danny's trembling fingers, but Clockwork swooped in and caught it just in time, with his good hand.

"I'm sorry—!" Danny gasped, but Clockwork shook his head, banishing the thoughts of apology.

"This is my fault, Danny. I've failed you. Failed everyone actually, by succumbing to this," he made a pause, placing the watch back securely into Danny's hand. "The only way I can redeem myself here is by having you protect this. I cannot see into this timeline's future anymore, but I know you will treat it with the respect it deserves. That you will keep it well out of the hands of the Observants."

The boy stared down at the watch again, and touched it gently with one of the fingers on his other hand. Even through the hazmat gloves he could feel the embossed words and edgings, and the bump that rose above to form the clasp. Something about the space around it was odd, as if it was being warped inwards, but it was just a touch out of reach for ordinary senses to fathom.

"What do I do with it?" Danny asked, his voice down to what barely counted for a whisper. "What does it _do_?"

"In time, Danny…" said Clockwork. "For now, your devoted protection is all that matters."

* * *

Danny had left, but only by force. The clock tower was quiet, again, disturbed only by the hushed telltale ticks of a thousand hands.

Clockwork stared into the old master clock, and Fate stared back. His face was transparent now, and had faded into the background almost in its entirety. His eyes had lost their glow, his impressive scar its impact.

"… Is this what you really wanted?" he sighed.

Fate gave no answer. She'd never been good at replying.

A few minutes later, everything was silent. The light had faded. The gears had stopped.

Clockwork was gone.


	2. Silver Lining

**Author's Note:  
** So many lovely reviews (so sorry I will be replying to them in the morning)! I was going to update a different fanfic first, but I decided to bump this one up in the queue. Hearts to all of you.

* * *

 **Like Clockwork  
** _A fanfic by Pseudinymous_

~ **2** : Silver Lining ~

* * *

The wind was blowing blossoms from the trees in the sweet spring air. They made little twirling motions in their descent, curling around each other and dancing their way to the ground. Pollen wafted about the place, leaving a pleasant-smelling and faintly delicious perfume behind. It was beauty for poets — not so much for those with hay fever.

The pocket watch sat stationary on Danny's desk as he gazed out the window, watching.

Three days had passed since his final visit to Clockwork's citadel. Maddie had looked at the watch briefly and asked where he had gotten it, but Danny just shook his head and mumbled something about finding it on the ground somewhere. She hadn't questioned him further — unlike most things that came out of the Ghost Zone, it didn't have any detectable ectoplasmic presence, so she had thought it a normal object.

Maybe she couldn't feel the strange gravitational pulling that surrounded it when she picked it up. Maybe Danny only could because he was half ghost.

He wondered this as he tried to picture a world without the time guardian protector. For now it looked mostly the same, as if nothing had changed at all. Such a pretty day clashed with the mood — like mother nature didn't care that it had lost a literal force of nature just a few days prior. Where were the thunderstorms? The rolls of thunder, the crashes of lightning?

By the time Clockwork had rushed Danny out, thrown him forcefully back to his bedroom in the Real World, the ghost had already lost a portion of his own face. He had said something about having perhaps another half an hour left, and was particularly set on spending it alone. Danny had fought and yelled and screamed, but even when dying the old time ghost was far too strong. Nothing could be done against him. Nothing.

In the days that followed, Danny hadn't told anyone about Clockwork. Not even Sam, not even Tucker. Somehow it felt disrespectful, even if he wasn't sure why.

A few minutes passed. Danny rolled over on his bed and blinked at the ceiling, until there was a short knock on the door. He paused, waiting for them to come in or say something, but… that never happened.

"… Hello?" Danny ventured. Still, there was no reply. "Jazz, if that's you—"

"We are not Jazz."

Danny froze. The voice was thick, like molasses, and had an impossible depth that echoed through a room it wasn't even present in. There was another pause before another voice to pick up where the first had left off.

"Daniel… Fenton?" it said, in a tone more shrill and unpleasant but still quite male. It sounded like he was guessing, as if he wasn't quite sure _Fenton_ was the right word. "We are Observants of the Order. You will allow us entry."

Hold on.

Where was his mother? Where was his dad, where was _Jazz_? All three of them were, last he checked, still in the house. And yet two Observants — definitely ghosts — were here without any apparent alarm. Three hundred panicked thoughts crossed Danny's mind all at once, and one of those thoughts was Clockwork's very stern words about that watch. About how important it was to keep away from the Order's prying eyes. The half ghost trembled, scrambled, and with all the grace of a four year old on stilts managed to phase the watch down in between the floorboards, where it couldn't be spotted.

Danny swallowed, hoping dearly he hadn't made too much noise. "… I guess you have to come in, then," he conceded, realising his position. "But where's my family?"

Apparently Observants always needed more time to think. There was quite an elongated pause before the first spoke again, stepping straight through the closed door. "You are the only one here, Daniel Fenton."

His partner followed him. "You were the last to see Clockwork before he disappeared!" he chimed, in his horrible strident voice. "We must question you!"

Danny couldn't help but stare at the strange floating eyeballs of ghosts, who had no real mouths of their own but still, for some reason, had voices that were clear to be heard. Even in spite of the relatively small amount of space they occupied, their foreboding auras had a habit of expanding to fill every little nook and cranny in the room, making the whole ordeal positively claustrophobic. It shot a spark of moodiness inside him, which travelled with a _pang_ , and he remembered how the Observants had always irritated Clockwork so.

"Why would you need to question me?" he demanded. "Couldn't you have just _observed_? Isn't that your job?"

How the first Observant could manage such an embarrassed look with only one gigantic eye to express himself, Danny would never be quite sure. "Clockwork forced us to leave."

"Well, guess what," said Danny, finding himself bristling. "Me too. He forced me out too. So I don't see why I have any information to give you."

The second Observant was clearly unimpressed. "What we mean is, Clockwork beckoned us to leave before he met with you. Do not be frustrating with us, Daniel Fenton. When we arrive somewhere seeking answers, we receive them — one way or another. You will give us our answers, and you will do it in a clean and straightforward manner. Do you understand?"

"And what if I don't just give them to you?" Danny shot back. The pair exchanged a Look with each other, which was probably the most unique Significant Looks Danny had ever seen in his life. They made a silent agreement on something, and nodded.

"Then there will be Consequences," the first one warned. "Very strict consequences. Nasty ones."

"... Which are?"

The first one was forced to stop and gaze desperately at his partner.

"Very strict ones indeed," the second assured him, repeating his cohort. "For starters, you will be removed from your residence in the human world. Normally ghosts are not tolerated to stay here, anyhow."

"And normally humans aren't tolerated to stay in the Ghost Zone either, but I have to live somewhere, don't I?" Danny kept going, unsure whether he was digging himself into a terrible ditch, or whether it would be just written off as an angry melancholy experienced by most people who were confused and in pain. He breathed out, trying not to fidget, but then came to the final conclusion that working with them for now and lying his way around any sensitive topics was probably the best way to get them to leave. Danny's arms snaked around each other until they were crossed, and he set his gaze straight into their… singular eyeballs.

This was getting uncomfortable, fast. He should have known not to try to outstare a being that existed almost solely to look at things. "What do you want to know?" Danny demanded.

This response was taken in much better spirits. "So, you're willing to cooperate now? Good."

"We would not be getting anywhere quickly if you were not cooperative!" the other assured. Danny didn't quite know how to take this. _Duh_ would have been his normal response, but somehow it didn't seem appropriate now. So he let the first speak again, to fill in the gap of silence.

"When Clockwork summoned you to his citadel, what exactly did he tell you?"

Danny paused, trying not to look too careful about his word selection. "He told me that he was 'dying'. How does that even work? How can ghosts die?"

And now it was the Observants' turn to pause, and they both drooped together as if they were plants that had been left to wilt in the hot summer sun for too long. "Ghosts cannot die," the first admitted. "Or, ghosts _should_ not die. But... somehow he saw it coming, and he was right. The universe is now without a guardian of time to protect it. No one can ever take over Clockwork's role - he was a literal force of nature. The only thing we can do is gather information about the situation."

Danny could feel a lump forming in his throat, but he swallowed and pushed it down before it could become any more of a problem. Was he really that upset about Clockwork? It's not like the time ghost had meant so much to him, he was simply a ghost that was there. Sure, Clockwork had lent a helping hand more than once, not to mention changed his fate into something that led to a brighter future, but it wasn't like they had bonded. The first time they'd met, the ancient ghost had tried to kill him, for Christ's sake!

But...

"... You are upset?" one Observant queried. "Clockwork always banished us before you were to visit. Did the pair of you foster some sort of relationship? Was he teaching you?"

"Relationship?" Danny choked. "You don't mean-"

"The meaning intended was not romantic, but any sort of relationship one can have with another being." the other Observant clarified, helpfully. "Clockwork did not do romance."

Danny breathed out. "... Ah."

There was a pause. One of the Observants (Danny was beginning to have trouble telling them apart, even when they stayed suspended in the same places for most of the conversation) floated gently over to the window, and stared with its supermassive eye down at the street below.

"... What are you doing?" Danny asked, hesitantly.

"Observing," said the Observant, but in the sort of tone that implied Danny was quite stupid, and in need of educating. Danny tried not to think of the distaste he was experiencing in being chastised in this manner. "You implied your parents and sister were not home. It will do well to watch for them."

"In any case-" the other continued, back on topic. "What sort of relationship did you have with Clockwork? Why were you the last being he saw before he left?"

"How am I supposed to know that?" Danny began to sputter, and his hands became uncrossed and started doing exclamatory things with minds quite of their own. "Don't you know how mysterious Clockwork was? Didn't you work with him? He told me important things to do with my future so I didn't fuck up and screw up the whole timeline. I think he trusted me. Beyond that, I... I don't know!"

The Observant gave a short little nod. "Interesting..."

"No sign of the Family yet," the other Observant pitched in, with particular stress on the word _family_. Both Danny and his partner ignored him.

Danny felt a bit bolder now, and marched a few steps towards his enquirer. "And what else do you even want to know, anyway?"

"Well, there are a few questions..." it said, and Danny noticed, with a mixed feeling somewhere between excitement, glee, and delight (never mind that they were all synonyms of each other), that it had backed away from his presence, even if only in the slight. "Perchance, we would like to know whether you knew about Fate."

Danny stumbled. "Fate?"

"I suppose not, then," the Observant at the window concluded. "No sign of the Family yet," he repeated.

Oh, this was going to get so old, so fast. The only thing Danny wanted them to do was leave so he could be miserable and melancholic in peace, and possibly take his anger, frustration, and sadness out on the next poor sod of a ghost who dared step foot into his town. "What else do you want?"

"We would like to know if Clockwork had any... parting gifts to give you, so to speak," said the Observant, carefully. "An artefact, it would have been."

"I don't know what you're talking about. He didn't give me anything," Danny replied, coldly. "All I was called in for was the warning. He said he could no longer see into the future, but he was sure I would be okay. Or something like that. Is that all you wanted to know?"

"No sign of the Family yet," the Observant at the window repeated, for a third time. Danny glared at him, losing all that remained of his tattered patience.

"You know if the two of you don't get going fast, my family will _definitely_ be here. And they're ghost hunters. All three of them. Mum and dad won't even stop to see if you're friendly. They'll just shoot. They think all ghosts are hostile."

The observing Observant's eye widened until it was close to its limit, and looking like it was almost about to pop out of place. "Is that the reason for the laboratory downstairs?" it said, hesitating.

"Yeah, well if you were even halfway good at your job of 'observing'," Danny said, stressing the last word in mocking tones, "You'd know that. Last time I checked, Observants like you are wimps. So unless you want to end up as a bunch of dissipated ectoplasmic dusts, I suggest you clear out really fast."

They seemed to be weighing up their options.

"You're wasting time," Danny growled. "I'm sure Clockwork would have told you on multiple occasions not to do that."

"Very well!" said the interrogator Observant, in dramatic fashion. "But you must speak to the Council in a few days time! Your presence is absolutely demanded! Surely if you had any relationship with Clockwork at all, you will agree that finding out what happened to him is of top priority. We must also decide what to do now that no guardian of time is in existence. This entire timeline, in fact all timelines, could be in jeopardy from this incident!"

Danny nodded, slowly.

"You will present to the Council at Clockwork's citadel at 8PM local time, on Sunday the fourteenth. Failure to present at the requested time and date is a criminal offence. Daniel Fenton, do you understand?"

Criminal offence... as in, something under Walker's jurisdiction? Danny found his breath catching uncomfortably in his throat. "I think I understand..." he said, quietly.

"Good," said both of the Observants, finalising the discussion. "We shall return to the Ghost Zone. Please take some time to think over carefully the events of the previous days."

And they were gone.

Danny had never gotten used to ghosts doing that. The abrupt way in which many of the friendly(er) ghosts would leave a social situation put him on edge, and was often so inhuman that he was astounded that many of these ghosts had ever been humans themselves, at some point. Perhaps their manners died in the real world, with them. The culture of the Ghost Zone wasn't exactly what one would call polite or easy going, after all.

He returned to his bed, making a stern decision to keep the watch hidden in between his floorboards and the roof of the room below, and bundled himself back into the blankets. He hadn't realised he was shaking, or developing a sweat, or feeling as if all of the warm energy was being sucked out of him by his own icy core. Perhaps his fight response had been aiding his will. Perhaps he should have just cooperated with the Observants without causing fuss and without being moody.

But as he thought about Clockwork more and more, Danny realised he was being thrown further into the realms of becoming upset. He didn't quite understand why. As he'd reminded himself earlier, it wasn't as if he had a non-working relationship with the ghost of time. But something inside nonetheless felt as if he had lost someone not just important to the entire universe, but important to _him_. Perhaps not a father figure. Perhaps not a mentor.

But someone important nonetheless.

Danny blinked at the blossoms dancing off the trees. Below, he could feel the watch's strange pull, begging him to do something with it even in spite of the fact that he had absolutely no idea what.

... He hadn't told anyone about Clockwork's death. No one except for the Observants who had demanded the information from him.

Was he even supposed to tell anyone?

Danny's mouth crept into a worried frown, and he reached for his phone.


	3. Gilding Metal

**Author's Note:  
** Hi all, I'm back with the third chapter! Thanks for your patience! Please keep the reviews coming - loathe as I am to admit it, it does encourage me to write a little faster. I'm getting more in the habit of checking out the profiles/stories/faves of people who post signed reviews, too, so I'll do my best to return the favour.

As always, constructive criticism is quite appreciated, if you have it. :)

* * *

 **Like Clockwork  
** _A fanfic by Pseudinymous_

~ 3: Gilding Metal ~

* * *

Sam's violet eyes passed over the watch several times, gazing at its ornate golden surface and all of the intricate little lines. It made a steady ticking that waltzed lazily through otherwise silent air, a constant tune that carried the weight of the world.

"… It's beautiful," she whispered, taking it into her hand and cradling it. "Clockwork gave you this?"

Danny nodded. He hadn't just been given the watch, after all — it had been for all practical purposes thrust onto him, made his responsibility because the old time ghost was no longer capable of playing caretaker. The pulling effect it had still irked him to his very core.

"Does it make you feel weird?" Danny asked, as she analysed it. "I feel like I'm drawn to it. Like… it…" he began, but he was struggling to find the right words to explain what he was feeling, and stopped. "Mum didn't look like she thought there was anything strange about it. She even held it."

Sam poked it experimentally with her finger, face screwed up into a thoughtful expression.

"Maybe it's just because I'm a ghost, but that doesn't really fit either," he sighed. "The Observants had no idea it was under my floorboards, but I could feel it from my bed."

Sam was still thinking about this, and flipped it over to examine the other side. "Maybe you can feel it because Clockwork chose you _."_

"Huh?"

"Yeah," she said, thoughtfully. "Like… maybe it's some sort of weird timekeeper thing. You said the world shouldn't be able to function without him, right? So naturally there'd have to be some sort of replacement."

Danny paused to let it do a round in his brain, but shook his head. "How am I supposed to be a … a weird timekeeper thing, Sam? I'm not Clockwork. And it's not like he was ever human before, he was just always… _there_."

"How do you know that?"

"… I dunno, how did the universe survive intact before he existed, then?"

Sam blinked. "We're talking about a time travelling ghost who was supposed to be eternal. I'm not sure that argument holds water."

"Yeah, well…" said Danny, trailing off. "What am I going to do about it?"

"You're going to do exactly as you were told," Sam advised, finally handing the watch back, motions delicate lest it should drop. "If the guardian of time is dying and gives you a watch with some instructions, you follow those instructions to the letter. I mean—"

She was cut off by the door opening. At its entrance was Tucker, right hand practically strapped to his PDA, who took two steps forward and sat down decisively, so that the three of them made a small circle. "The two of you sitting around like this, all alone, in Danny's bedroom?" he asked, arching a very suggestive brow. "What'd I miss?"

"Tucker, shut up," Sam fumed. "This is really serious."

The smile on his face vanished. "Your secret—"

"My secret's fine, Tuck. It's… something else."

The techno-geek (he preferred the term _computational enthusiast_ nowadays) sat to attention, but seemed to be drawing blanks on what this could all be about. Danny glowered, flipping the watch over in his hands again, to show the front of the case. A big capital C was laid over a serifed W, a mark of territory that had only ever belonged to one particular ghost. Tucker's eyes widened.

"Did Clockwork give you that?" he asked, breathing in.

"He didn't just _give_ me this watch," said Danny, carefully. "It's like… an heirloom. He was dying. He made me take it."

Even Tucker's lightning-quick brain required a few strokes of processing time, teal irises dilating as the reality of his best friend's words truly sank in.

"What do you mean, _dying_?" he said. There was a little hint of hysteria in his voice. "Ghosts don't die!"

"That's what we both thought," Sam clarified, a dark chill to her voice. "But…"

" _Clockwork's_ _dead_?"

Danny gave a short acknowledging nod. Unlike his two friends, the initial shock had worn off and now the creeping horror of the situation was starting to trickle in. " He was… fading away. I saw it, it was starting at his hand, it was disappearing into nothing inside his glove. He said it would spread to the rest of him until he was just gone. I don't know what happened after that, he forced me to leave. Not even the Observants know why it happened."

"…"

"And now I have this watch," Danny finished, quietly.

"See what I mean about it being serious?" Sam asked, the weight of her heavy stare bearing down on the teen. "Apparently this watch is… 'time itself', or something. But it doesn't really do anything but tick, and make Danny feel weird."

"Huh…" said Tucker.

Danny opened up the watch and gazed at the seconds hand as it made its loop around the clock, underneath the glass. The closer his fingertips came to the source of the ticking the more they tingled oddly, feeling as if magnetically attracted to the thing. His nails made a distinct _tink_ sound as they hit the rim.

"He told me I couldn't let the Observants know about it, but now they've literally visited my house and demanded to see me at their 'council', or whatever. I don't think they know about the clock but they're basically interrogating me about Clockwork, and I just…" Danny paused, thinking. "I mean, I know they always annoyed Clockwork, but I never imagined them as, well, bad guys that I'd need to keep something from."

"And Clockwork didn't clarify _any_ of this for you?" asked Tucker, somewhat amazed.

Danny's eyes dropped down to his feet, which were sitting neatly under crossed legs. His voice was nearly at a whisper. "I don't think he had enough time left."

It was bizarre, Danny realised, talking about a figure like Clockwork not having enough time. He was the guardian of time, a literal personification of a continuous and undying concept, with the ability to sway to and fro through the centuries. Even his form shifted through its own little ages, of times of childhood and adolescence all the way through to becoming an elderly man. The power he held was astounding. And even he, in spite of all of that, had been out of time.

Danny continued to look at his shoe. One of his eyes stung, and he tried to blink it away before either of his friends could see it, but Sam was too perceptive for that. He knew she'd caught him going glassy-eyed, even if she hadn't said anything, and even if Tucker was too absorbed in his own thoughts to see it. Silently, he cursed himself.

… What was making him react like this? Forcing him to experience such a great feeling of loss? Was it just the frustration at losing something so important to the world, and the terror of what would happen next? Or was it somehow more personal? He kept telling himself that Clockwork had barely been a mentor or a guardian figure, although perhaps somehow down the line, Danny had come to revere him as such anyway.

"And it's like nothing in the world's changed," Danny pointed out, rubbing an elbow with his spare hand. "Everything is just going on as if it never happened, as if he was never important."

"I wouldn't count on that," said Sam, darkly. "I don't mean to be a doomsayer or anything, but give it time."

Danny made a pathetic groan, and leaned back into the end of his bed. The wood dug into his shoulder blades but at this point he was well beyond caring. "What are we gonna do?"

"Dude, maybe it'll be okay. One thing at a time, right? Just… get through this council thing first, and then see what happens."

It was one of the few times Tucker had ever been truly earnest and thoughtful. Perhaps that made it carry so much more weight, because it made sense to Danny, and even though the idea of putting it out of his mind until then felt so wrong, it also seemed… logical.

"Okay," he agreed, although he didn't change the awkward posturing of his body. "One thing at a time."

* * *

" _Order_!" a voice screamed, as the banging of a gavel echoed around the chambers. "The Council is in session!"

Thousands of eyeballs stood to attention. They all gazed down at Danny, and gave him a feeling that had a few comparisons to being caught standing naked and dumbstruck in the middle of a football field, during a crowded match. He regarded them all apprehensively, a nervous trait leading him to rubbing the end of his right elbow, and otherwise relished the idea of when this would all be over.

The head of council put the gavel down, and peered at Danny over the top of his glasses (monocle?) in a way that made him feel like a criminal. "Daniel Phantom, is it?"

"Yes sir!" said Danny obediently, jittering where he stood.

"And you were the last remaining person in Clockwork's presence, correct?"

"As far as I know, sir."

The head of council seemed to be taking a moment to collect his thoughts and papers. "Good," he said, straightening the stack of paper by striking the side on the flat of the table several times. "Thank-you kindly for agreeing to meet with us during such an emergency, Daniel. It is heartening to know that _someone_ respects our need to keep order."

There were a few mutterings between the Observants in the audience. Danny couldn't quite make any of them out, but had a suspicion that they had a lot to do with the Order's continual _problems_ with Clockwork. But he had long since learned that in a situation like this it was better to speak only when requested, and kept quiet.

"You may be wondering why, specifically, we have called you here," the head continued, "As I am sure you are aware, you were far from Clockwork's… _apprentice._ Like us, you would be incapable of taking on his work now that he is gone. We are not meeting here today to replace him with you. We are meeting here today to figure out what we _can_ do, and to investigate his disappearance."

Danny waited for more monologue, but suddenly realised from the looks of a thousand stares that he was expected to use his tongue. "Err…" he began, into his little microphone. "Yeah…" he said, weakly.

A few confused expressions. Well, it wasn't his fault that he got nervous standing in front of a few thousand floating eyeball ghosts when the guardian of time had mysteriously disappeared. The head of the council jarred for a moment, and then realised that to keep things moving he would have to be direct.

"What do you understand of the flows of time, Daniel?"

Truthfully, almost nothing. Danny glowered down at his bright white boots, guiltily.

"… I see…" said the head, who could now understand that this was going to go nowhere. "… And I suppose, as the other members of our Order told me, you have even less idea about Clockwork's supposed 'death' than we do."

Danny nodded.

There was another big pause around the room. Silence felt as if it was sucking the oxygen right out, making it difficult to breathe — not that the Observants themselves would be familiar with a problem like that.

"What's going to happen?" Danny sputtered, eventually, breaking his rule of only speaking when spoken to. "If no one can do Clockwork's job, then what happens if something goes wrong with the time stream?"

More silence. "We don't know," said the head, eventually. "Clockwork did more than keep the order of events spiralling towards a decent path — he made sure time flowed correctly and without error. This was a power of his, and one could not just pick up his staff and hope for the best. Our knowledge is that he kept a precious object which was imbued with his power, and stabilised the timelines when he was not actively thinking about them."

Oh God. A precious object. _The watch_. The thoughts cycled through Danny's mind like an out-of-control rollercoaster — so when Clockwork said it truly was time itself, did that mean that it stopped time from collapsing? Could it still possibly work when Clockwork was gone and the watch was kept by him? Suddenly he became thankful that he had decided to leave it with Sam until he arrived back in the Real World.

 _Keep it on you always,_ Clockwork had said. Well, this was an exception. Wasn't it? Surely the need to keep it away from the Observants would supersede the need to keep it on his person at all hours of the day. It was the best way to protect it, right now.

The Observant's voice sounded like it was burying him in cement when it finally continued, grave and serious. "Daniel, if Clockwork gave you such an object, it is very important that you inform us of its existence and whereabouts. The entire time stream could be in jeopardy if it does not undergo proper analysis."

Danny's breath caught in his throat — he'd have to make a decision. But out of Clockwork and the Observants, he knew who he trusted more.

Danny mustered together all of the experience he'd ever had in lying.

"He never gave me anything, sir."


	4. Tinted Glass

**Author's Note:  
** Sorry this one took a while! As I mentioned to a couple of reviewers, I got stuck on my other story and I was too stubborn to swap back to this one. Thank-you everyone who has stopped and left their comments so far. It really means a lot. :)

If you have a good fic recommendation from something written in the past 2+ years, let me know. I don't mind if it's yours or your friend's. Try to keep it under 40 - 50K words though, as I don't have a lot of time! :')

NOTE: After the release of this chapter, I'm going to start posting chapter previews, unfinished scenes, and story notes on my tumblr account. You can find me under "pseudinymous". Please follow if interested! :) (I also do fanart and cosplay.)

* * *

 **Like Clockwork  
** _A fanfic by Pseudinymous_

~ 4: Tinted Glass ~

* * *

When Danny got back from the Ghost Zone, the lab was eerily quiet.

Normally his parents would be working on something now, tinkering away at yet another device that would rightfully terrify the boy out of his wits. Perhaps they'd turned in for an early night? It wouldn't be the first time…

With no threat of imminent danger, Danny melted back into vision and landed awkwardly on the floor. He was dreadfully tired, and his ghost half wasn't doing much to ward it off tonight, so his walk was more of a staggered wobble than his usual one-foot-before-the-other affair. Certainly, there were feet going places. It was just that forwards might not have been one of them.

"You're home late."

Green eyes snapped to the teal ones of his sister. She was sitting in the corner, book now shut, having stealthily avoided his sharp vision only because he was a few steps too close to a coma. "Jazz!" he yelped, and then he took a deep, calming breath. "I didn't see you."

Jazz's lips had curled into a troubled frown. "I wasn't exactly hiding."

"I'm just tired, Jazz. Stop worrying about me. I'm fine."

But her eyes did not leave his sorry form as he plodded through the laboratory, reverting to his human self with an exhausted yawn that carried the weight of the world. He got to the first step, and dragged the rest of his body up, fighting against gravity. Jazz rushed to his aid, his body falling sluggishly into her open arms.

"Danny, you can't even carry yourself," she said, seriously. "Come on, let me take you to bed."

He murmured something incomprehensible, and they began to walk.

But Danny didn't want his sister to be doing this. All he really wanted to do was plod up to his room on his own steam, collapse for the night, and deal with all of the nagging, terrible thoughts whenever he came to. Every step Jazz took up the stairs with him was a step closer to at least ten minutes of psychological "investigation". He didn't want to be investigated. He didn't want to talk about it what he'd just seen. He certainly didn't want to let anyone but Tucker or Sam know about Clockwork's disappearance — every extra person who knew was an additional weak point. Tucker and Sam knew how to fight and flee, even when weapons were unavailable.

Jazz, however… too often needed saving.

Danny was dumped onto his bed, in as close to a loving way as could be managed. "Something's going on with you, little brother," Jazz said, quietly. "You don't look like you've been in a fight, and now's not even the time you normally go to bed. What happened in there?"

Her question was met with silence.

"… What's possibly so bad that you can't even tell me?" she asked, whispering.

A deep breath. He drew it in and held it for at least four seconds before he even thought about responding, but realised he should probably hurry up if he wanted her to scram anytime soon. "Don't worry about it, it's the usual stuff," he said. "It's difficult, but I can handle it."

"Don't hero complex your way out of this."

"I don't have a hero complex!"

Was that… amusement? It looked like she was desperately trying to keep her face straight. "Yeah, right. Sure you don't little brother. Sure."

"I _don't_!" he rallied, finding the energy from nowhere. "What am I supposed to do, just let people die?! What sort of a person would I be if I did that?"

He didn't know how to read that smile. It was… smug, somehow, as if she knew she was right and that he was just playing into her hands. "Well… you get some rest," she declared, turning with a big bright swish of her orange hair. She was almost out the door when she spoke again, her eyes gleaming like no ghost's could ever manage. "You'd be a normal person, Danny."

Danny rolled over until his face was smushed into the pillow, and groaned.

It hadn't been ten minutes, but it had felt longer, somehow.

* * *

Danny woke up to seven missed calls and thirty-six missed messages. All but three were from Sam. The other messages were from Tucker. Danny could feel his heart palpitating in his throat, having travelled there from its recommended position in his chest.

' _Danny I'm so sorry oh god please pick up!'_

' _I need help!'_

' _There's a crack! There's a crack!'_

' _I swear I didn't drop it! It did this on its own!'_

' _What does this mean?'_

' _Danny!'_

He struggled to read the messages, eyes still bleary and unfocused from sleep, scrolling down and sometimes not taking in the full meaning of even very simple words. Each thump of his heart seemed to make the blood in his brain and his eyes bulge from within the veins, his vision lurching with the rhythmic beats. Never had he wished so strongly to be reprieved of normal human functions.

Eventually, as he read the texts, a narrative became clear.

Sam had been up late holding the pocket watch, looking at it with the usual fascination and awe she found in mysterious objects — even if they weren't even vaguely gothic at all. And there, out of nowhere, a crack had appeared in the glass. It was slim with no sharp edges, and shaped suspiciously like a bolt of lightning.

Other than that, nothing else was happening. The world hadn't broke, and the time stream seemed to be chugging along just fine. Tucker on the other hand didn't know about the incident, and had been trying to nag a thoroughly unconscious Danny into seeing a movie with him. Needless to say, that hadn't happened.

The more he woke up, the more he wondered about this mysterious crack in that watch. Was it because he had left it while he was going to see the Observants? What else was he supposed to have done? He couldn't very well have waltzed into the Ghost Zone with that thing clipped onto his belt, with all of their greedy eyes and fingers. It would have been snatched up in an instant. They'd even told him, on exit, that if he wasn't wearing a skintight jumpsuit they would have insisted on searching him.

His spine shuddered. No, he didn't need that. This wasn't a US airport. In fact, he didn't really need it in a US airport, either. Enough of the truly terrifying went on in the Observant's domain as it was.

The only thing for it was to visit Sam and see for himself. What he thought he'd be able to do, he had no idea. Staggering as he got up, he pulled off his pyjamas and threw them messily on his bed, and then yanked several items of clothing from their respective hangers. His t-shirt accidentally went on backwards and inside-out, but that didn't matter. He just needed to see Sam. It was six o'clock in the morning and nothing was going to stop him.

Danny transformed, took a chilling breath, and launched himself through his own bedroom window. Sun streaked through the cityscape that unfolded beneath, as it began a slow ascent to its rightful place atop the world. Usually he would have stopped and looked, but his mind was too busy playing an endless loop, worrying about what the crack could possibly mean. The half ghost knew well that it was pointless to dwell on such things if he realistically had no idea, but the human mind doesn't work that way. The human mind thrives in its own suffering, and if this meant repeating something that caused anxiety uselessly for hours on end, then so be it.

Calling Sam might have been an idea, but he was already on his way, and speaking on the phone would give his mind an extra thing to focus on, slowing his flight.

In the distance, a decidedly not-exactly-gothic mansion. Just a minute later, he was knocking on Sam's bedroom window.

A well-known fact about Sam was how little a morning person she was. And yet still she was at the window frame right away, pulling it up quickly but with a struggle, allowing him tangible passage.

"I'm a ghost, you know," he pointed out. "It always gets stuck, you don't need to open it."

"Yeah, well," she said, failing to give any direct justification. "Why weren't you answering last night? You'd think when something bad happens—"

"Sam, I was asleep. The world isn't falling apart… yet. I'm sorry. Can you calm down?"

Sam's open mouth shut promptly.

"Let me see it."

Sam showed the pocket watch, which glistened strangely in her hand. It had never done that before - was that the ghostly energy with which it was inevitably intertwined? Or was it something else, something more? Clockwork was, after all, a ghostly being like no other. There had been some days when Danny had wondered if he was not something else, merely taking the form of a ghost because doing so was convenient.

The damage wasn't visible until the watch was opened. Sure enough, a lightning bolt crack tore the glass in two even though it remained well-set in place. Each end of the crack hit a number exactly — 9, and 2. The watch's silent ticking hands continued their rounds around the clock face, as if nothing were amiss.

Danny took the watch from her, slowly, carefully. It didn't seem any more fragile than it had before, but there was no use in foregoing safety now. It paid to treat things like this with respect.

"Hey..." he said, brushing his fingers over the strange glowing matter. "Do you see that? It didn't do that before."

"See what?" asked Sam.

"The glow."

But she looked confused. Couldn't she see it at all? Was this perhaps like the odd pull it gave off, the one that he could feel but no one else could?

"Danny, I can't see any glowing."

It was there, though, he was sure of it. And it seemed to be leaking from the crack in the glass. It shot off little glistening particles of what might not have exactly been matter, which dissipated in the air after shining for a couple of seconds.

"... It's losing something. Stuff. Time energy?" Danny hesitated on each of his words, unsure of where he was supposed to be going with this. "I... hang on."

He pressed one thumb firmly over the crack. Sure enough, the glow filtered away, and the particles stopped their frantic escape.

"Huh."

"Huh, what? Did you plug it?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Oh..." but she frowned. "You can't just hold it like that for the rest of your life, though!"

"Mm, but it helps us, I think... I mean, if I can stop it like this, that makes three things possible. It's either stopped by a human body, it's stopped by ectoplasm, or it's stopped by, uhh, specifically me. If it's ectoplasm, we can fix that! I mean, even though we don't really know what we're fixing. Eheh..."

Sam regarded him skeptically. "I don't know, Danny... if you're the only one that can see this energy, then maybe you're the only one who can stop it, too. It's not like we're talking physics anymore. This stopped being physics when a timekeeper died, I think."

Danny paced around her, keeping his thumb pressed tightly in place as he thought. Even as he rounded the goth, however, he didn't find his eyes drawn to her as normal. All he could think about was this watch.

"But there are rules for everything... I think?" he asked, not so much Sam but himself. "I mean, if there's a way to document and calculate everything that happens in the real world, then that must mean there's a way to do that with ghost stuff and this, too. Things have to follow rules to happen. If the Ghost Zone didn't follow rules, then mum and dad wouldn't have been able to break into it. Right?"

She regarded him sceptically. "If you say so, person who is apparently half dead."

" _Sam_ , I'm one-hundred percent alive. With ghost powers. Didn't we talk about this?"

"Mm…" she brushed him off, no attempt made to hide her disinterest.

He came full circle around his gothic friend and, upon making eye contact again, thrust the watch into her hands. "Try covering it!"

She did, after a brief huff of annoyance. Energy leaked out.

"Well? What's happening?"

Danny frowned. "It's not working. The particles are just rising straight through your hand…"

She thrust it back to him just as promptly. "Okay then, that's option number one down. I guess… just hold it until you sort this out? We don't even know what any of this means."

"Yeah…" and he gave a little sigh.

She may have been snippy, but Danny had known Sam for a long time. Her snippiness was usually a sign that she cared, and was worrying deeply about something. He knew better than to take offence. But the watch wasn't the only thing she was worried about.

"Why'd you come back home so tired?" she asked. "I tried calling you at like, ten. Normally you're not asleep until two."

Danny said nothing.

"Did the Observants hold you up or something? What happened?"

This again? First he had to dance around Jazz's curiosities, and now Sam's? Why couldn't things just be left alone? Danny looked into her sincere, troubled eyes. She wanted to know for her own comfort just as much as his, but he wasn't ready to talk about it, not just yet. Maybe not ever. What he had witnessed after the hearing was something he wished he could unsee, something that could somehow be cleansed from his brain forever.

But it would remain stuck there now, for eternity. An image of hopelessness at the back of his mind, waiting to re-reveal some of the truths of life and existence.

"I'm not allowed to talk about it," he said, meaning every word. But no one had forbidden him — this was actually much more specific: Danny had forbidden _himself_ from ever mentioning it again.

Not once.

Not even in the coldest whispers of the night.

Not ever.


End file.
